He sat down at Frasier's breakfast table and opened his briefcase, removing a pad of paper and a pen. It wasn't just any pen, but rather his coveted Noel Coward pen; the one that would surely bring him luck. At that moment he wondered why he hadn't considered using it before, but now he realized just how much he needed it.

He stared at the paper, willing his hand to remain steady. And then he began to write;

Dear Mr. Houghton,

It is with a heavy heart that I write this letter. I-

No, that wasn't right. It wasn't right at all. Frustrated, he crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it haphazardly onto the floor. And then he tried again with a new sheet.

Dear Mr. Houghton,

I've done something terrible. I-

No, he couldn't write that. Why write something that Mr. Houghton already knew? And besides, reading it again, it sounded as though Niles was confessing to a murder. Trying his best to remain calm and to keep from becoming even more frustrated, he made a third attempt.

Dear Mr. Houghton,

I speak for myself and my brother Frasier when I say that our behavior last night was inexcusable. We were childish and selfish and those words don't even begin to describe-

"Dr. Crane, what are you doing here?"

At the sweet, familiar (and much unexpected) voice, Niles whirled his head around. And almost instantly his heart began to pound in his chest when he saw her. As gentlemanly as possible he rose to his feet, but his legs felt like jelly as he attempted to stand, and he held on to the table for dear life.

"Oh, hello Daphne. I-I hope you don't mind. I-I let myself in."

She smiled. "Not at all. You know you're always welcome here. I'm sorry I wasn't here to answer the door, but-." She froze and walked over to where he stood, still clutching the side of the breakfast table. It was then that he remembered the mess he'd made; the piles of crumbled paper that lay at his feet. And suddenly he was embarrassed. Frantically his mind raced, in search of a suitable explanation.

"I-I…"

Before he could even think of something to say, she bent down and began to pick up the crumpled pieces of paper, shaking her head in disbelief. He was about to say smoothing when he noticed that she was looking in the direction of his father's beloved chair, where Eddie still sat, oblivious to her presence.

"Oh, Eddie you know I love you, but must you always make such a bloody mess?"

Upon hearing his name, Eddie raised his head and barked. Clearly he was as confused as Niles was about the accusation. Surely she didn't think that Eddie had been the one who had been working to write a suitable apology, although at that point Niles was almost convinced that Eddie could have done a much better job.

Niles watched as Daphne continued to pick up the pieces of paper and he gently touched her arm, sending shivers through his body. "Daphne, you don't have to do that."

She smiled sweetly. "It's all right, Dr. Crane. I don't mind."

"Daphne, please, let me take care of it."

"It's all right, Dr. Crane, really."

"Please! I insist!" He said a bit more forcefully.

"But Dr. Crane, even though this is your home too, you shouldn't have to clean up after your father's dog!" She shook her head again. "I can't believe the messes he makes sometimes! Shame on you!" She said, wagging her finger at Eddie, who whined and buried his head in the cushion.

Strangely Niles' heart went out to Eddie, for Niles knew all too well what it was like to be accused of something he didn't do. He'd experienced it time and time again, thanks to Maris.

At that moment Niles felt very small. "A-actually Daphne, Eddie didn't make this mess."

"Dr. Crane, Eddie's just a dog! You certainly don't have to come to his defense. He probably has no idea what I'm saying anyway."

"I-I know, but I'm telling you the truth."

She laughed in a way that was almost condescending. If he didn't love her so much he might have been hurt. But instead he chose to ignore it.

"All right then, Dr. Crane. If Eddie didn't make the mess, who did?"

He swallowed hard. "I did."